The Breadth of Life

Earlier this week I watched the video of Kat.Stacks getting the ish smacked out of her. And my mouth was agape. I don’t know much about her, but I know enough that she has apparently made what some might consider some poor choices and is becoming persona non grata in the hip hop world. We can debate all day long her level of foulness, but I do hope that we can all agree that it’s never ok for two grown ass men to run up on a woman and start slapping her in the face. That is not ok. Ever. And I wonder if women know that. If men know that. If these babies know that. If they watched it and laughed. If they will mimic the behavior. If they will ever learn that it’s never ok.

And then I read this article yesterday about a 7 year old girl contracting gonorrhea from her mother’s “boyfriend.” And it broke my heart. And made me sad. Sure she is not the only little girl whose innocence is taken away on a daily basis. Who has no voice. No power. No choice. But I wonder what will her future look like? What if 20 years from now she is the next generation’s Kat.Stacks? And everyone is all, “look at that ‘ho.” Not realizing what she came from. Is this to say every promiscuous woman has been molested? No, of course not. Does every promiscuous woman have low self esteem? Hmmm… I don’t know. That’s all relative and subjective, I suppose.

What I do think, is that what we are seeing is a lot of pain in these babies. Pain that has nowhere to go, but out, because it has already gnawed up the insides. I once heard a pastor say that it is the events that make you grow as a person that we are often too embarrassed to talk about. And this is where I stopped writing yesterday because I didn’t know what else to say.

And then I attended my church’s revival yesterday night featuring the awesome Rev. Dr. James Forbes. He preached from Ezekiel 37:1-14 – the valley of dry bones and raising bones from the dead. And then like no other revival I had ever attended – he stopped his sermon, told us all to sing Jesus Loves Me (yes the song from childhood), hug yourself while singing it, greet one another in that love, and then get with a partner and ask them – Where do you see death in this nation? Its dry bones?

My partner was an older woman whose face and name I knew, but I had never really spoken to. We had read the same Washington Post article – she in the morning (and she couldn’t read anything else after that), me in the evening before coming to church. We had the same reaction. Sadness. Anger. Helplessness.

But like any good pastor, Rev. Forbes didn’t just ask us where we see death, dry bones that need to be put back together and have life breathed in them – of course he asked us what we are going to do about it. Because that is our job as Christians. But even if you’re not a Christian by name or practice, I have always believed that it is our job as human beings – to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. In a huge way. A seemingly small way. But somehow. Someway.

Over the years I have felt a calling to help and work with little girls (which is why the two stories I started off with really spoke to my soul). I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a loving, nurturing family and community and I want to ensure that all little girls know what it feels like to be loved. Maybe it’s because in spite of being loved and wanted, I have had some traumatic experiences that only me and the Lord know about – that left me feeling unloved and unwanted. And I would never want a little girl to think they have to struggle with emptiness and brokenness all on their own.

Recently I have despised coming to work. And it’s not because of the work that I do, but because of the politics of the job and the organization. But last night’s sermon reminded me, that it’s not about me at all, that the work I do is part of something bigger – giving little brown and black girls new opportunities, a safe space where they feel loved and encouraged. But it's easy to forget when you have to deal with so much other foolishness.

Cause it can be hard to fulfill one’s purpose in a world of materialism. Where success is defined by the amount of money in your bank account and the car that you drive. It can be difficult to rise above the clatter of work, cell phones and other technology that keep us in constant communication, family obligations, hair appointments, when is my husband coming thoughts, my car needs a new transmission and I don’t have the money woes, oh yeah and other bills are piling up too, and Lord there is oil oozing into the ocean, and a huge sink hole, and babies are killing each other over gold plated bracelets, and folks are losing their homes, and, and, and… And find your place in it all. Your purpose. Your destiny. That in truth should have nothing to do with you at all.

As I step off my philosopical soap box, Rev. Forbes also said something that I have to further ponder. He said, "oftentimes we want to appear to the world as just beautiful, fresh cut flowers. Just kinda doing our own thing. But we must be rooted [in faith]." But to take it out of Christian context - I feel that we must be rooted in something greater than ourselves. What roots you? Inspires you? Moves you? Provides you with the strength to make it through the day? What gives you the very breath you need to make this life worth living?

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

wanna get next to you

ya'll remember kirk? he's the dude i went out with that one time after many a false start and then he friend-zoned me on the slick. let me take you back...

and then i got the most bitchassedness text message today. kirk tells me he doesn't have time to date, despite my being smart, funny, very attractive, and well just great, he hopes we can remain friends.

jigga what?!?!? jigga who does that? by text no less. my guy friend said i told you so and my sistafriends said you didn't want to date him anyway. but that's besides the point. how you gone have time to be friends but not have time to date? riddle me that. part of me thinks good riddance to bad rubbish but part of me thinks he's lying. but for why? was he just not feeling a sista? was he intimidated? was he really just that damn busy? or not ready to follow through on plans to meet? not that i'll be losing any sleep over it for these are the days of my life as a single lady. but still...who does that?

well kirk is back at it again. since his grace-less bow out, kirk has been randomly texting and calling me about every couple of weeks, attempting small talk about the weather, his work, and baby kittens: all manner of generic things you talk about with someone you seemingly never want to see naked.

then my life became like an episode of how i met your mother. my co-worker called me: listen up i got a story to tell. [insert the black flashback screen that reads "a couple days ago..."]. at a training session, my co-worker met a woman, we'll call her lois lane, who will be interning at our office this summer. lois lane asked my co-worker, you know this woman named mint julep? she works in your office. co-worker replies of course. why do you ask? lois lane says i want to work with mint julep for the summer and solicits my co-worker's help in hooking her up with me for the summer.

[insert co-worker's mean side-eye here]

co-worker questions lois lane about why she's so thirsty for a drink of the minty freshness. and out comes the craziness. apparently lois lane is good friends with captain kirk. he has confided in her how much he was/is/will forever be feeling me. he's shared with her how perfect i was for him and how he feels like he blew his chance with me. but he believes that if she can talk him up to me during the summer his window of opportunity might re-open. so her plan is to drop little hints about how great he is during her internship.

boy stop! girl bye!

[flashback to the present and me laughing into the phone at the super-weirdness that my life has become.]

i can just imagine kirk sitting up in his room all alone at night harboring feelings for me holding his pillow tight, coming up with this master plan. i feel a little vindicated that his whole "let's just be friends" thing was a great big ball of stage fright. but it's also really weird to me that he's doing the most trying to get next to me when he had many a chance to do so already. and kinda sorta pretty much fucked that allllllll the way up. or not. theoretically he still has an opportunity if he comes at a sista on the real real, in a grand gesture-like standing up on a counter in the middle of fall carnival kinda way. let me get another chance to make you love me girl. but alas, he's taken the lemme play mind games on you approach.

i thought only females plotted and schemed for hours on end to perfectly time the exact second mr. quarterback walks past her in the hallway to drop that chemistry book at his feet and do her best bend and snap. it feels a little like truth about cats and dogs or sleepless in seattle or that random episode of girlfriends (shouts to rum punch).

and again i say who does that?

Using My Lazy Card...Again!

Don't you hate it when you are bored at work, school or at life in general and you go to a blog 'specting to laugh or at least be mildly amused and all they have posted is a stupid video? Like how freaking lazy can they be?!

It's like going to a Jay-Z concert and his hype man is cuing up the iPod to play Blueprint while Jay-Z sits on stage sipping Fuji Water!And you paid 85 bucks for this? (which will probably be the case in about 15 more years)

It's like going to a resturant and the waiter pulls up a chair and sits down to take your order and then wants to stay awhile and chat about our past lives! (true story, it happened to me and my home girl a few years ago).

It's like yo momma standing in the kitchen while you are upstairs trying to find a cure for cancer through google searches and she asks you to get her a drink of water! Huh?! Why she can't do it, if she's already in the kitchen?!

And I am that freakin' lazy today ya'll. With today being the first day back at work after nearly a week, family in town for little cousin's graduation tomorrow and choir rehearsal at the church house going longer because which our fabulous minister of music flinging his wrists around (aka directing) people weren't sure when they should sing. My brain doesn't have anymore to give ya'll than Usher's OMG!

Sorry ya'll, but I secretly-well not so secretly now-and with guilt love this song!





See You In Seven